But Jordan! Think of the employee discount!

As some of you may or may not know, last week I quit the job that I've been working at since I was eighteen years old. Although you'd be hard presseed to be able to consider it a career, it was like my home. I spent a greater majority of my time there, all my friends are still there. But last week I decided it was time to embark on something bigger and better. Alot of the things I'm about to say are probably not wise to post on the internet for fear of being dooced, but I'm cool with it.

Like I was saying as you may or may not know I now work for and I quote "The world's largest consumer electronics retailer". I will not actually cite the company by it's name but for clarities sake we'll call it "Great Purchase". I started last week, and at first I was pretty sure I loved it. Sure everyone seemed to clap a whole lot, and the pep talks and things like "There is no mountain too high, dream the impossible" being said at every possible moment was a little cumbersome. Yet all things considered I was pretty sure I was going to like it in spite of all that. The pay was great, and the benefits were even better. Sure the my co workers look a little lactose intolerant but I can deal with that too. And for the first few days everything seemed alright. I went merrirly along my way stocking cds, and dvds, and other consumer electronics that make us and I quote "The world's largest consumer electronics reatailer", and all seemed right in the world. But that was all until this week, where things hit a fever pitch.

I mentioned something casually about the constant clapping and pep talks, but I doubt I really did alot to drive home that point to you. It is a constant threat, that makes us want to pull out our hair, and punch someone squarely in the conjones. It is ever present, ever looming; the fear of having to cheer out in jubilation over a company we've only been working for a little over a week. When we get there at the beginning of our shift, we do jumping jacks, and in each interval we spell out the companies name. When we adjourn for a lunch break we are forced to "give them" the letters that spell out the name of our business. When we come back from lunch we are made to recite a cheer that not only do we have to memorize, but we will also be tested on. And God forbid we just clock out and leave at the end of our shift, heavens no. I mean how dare we want to leave when we've only been clapping for the last nine hours of our lives? How fucking dare we. So yet again, we are made to cheer just one more time before we all leave to walk ourselves into oncoming traffic hoping for the absolute worst.

To some people this situation doesn't sound that horrible. Great pay? Sign me up! Benefits and discounts out the ass? Sounds great! But if only you had to endure the constant peppiness, the incesant clapping, the ever present cheering and yelling; you too would be looking for an easy way out: death. But even all of that wasn't enough for me to truly, truly hate my job until today. The day when they thought it would be best to stop the hours upon hours of meticulous arranging and pricing merchandise. No today, we got a special treat. Today we got to sit in front of a three hundred pound man from our very important "corporate offices", and hear him talk about the joys of high deffinition television for five hours straight. Five fucking hours of pixels, and bit rates, and handing out Pez dispensers for the people who got answers to questions correct.

In case you were wondering, no I was not a recipient of a most sought after Pez dispenser. Apparently I'm not worthy of such a thing as a appendageless cartoon head attached to a plastic tube. But even after suffering such a loss, I was still in the game. Iw asn't quite ready to throw in the proverbial towel. That was until as I was trying ot make my escape at five o clock after one last round of clapping, that one of the managers came up to me and said "Jordan, we need to talk about something." Of course the first thought that came to my mind was "Oh, shit. He realized I was asleep for most of that speech about high deffinition tv, didn't he? Holy bejesus fuckballs." And just as I was trying to think of a beliveable lie for why I was asleep, he says "It's about your khakis." I look down at my Abercrombie and Fitch regulation standard issue khaki pants. Sure there are a few frayed edges at the bottom cuffs, but I kind of thought that brought a nice touch. I mean it's not like I paid for these pants to be ripped, this is all natural! You should praise me on how real I am, or something equally stupid. Then he says "Your khakis are not what "great purchase" considers khaki." I look down at the dark tan of my pants, and look back up questionly, my thoughts drifting to things such as "then what color is it dipshit?". He then says to me "Just make sure you fix the problem Jordan, remember that the impossible is possible here at "Great Purchase", I would hate to see you ruin it with the wrong uniform." He looks at me as if he doesn't even believe what he's saying and then turns around and goes back inside. The entire time I'm thinking "Look, Mister corporate, I don't fucking want your mountain. I don't fucking want you're godamned impossible possibillity or whatever the fuck you're talking about. But I do want you to realize that this is what khaki looks like in America. So take a long hard look at my supossed unkhaki colored knee; because you're about to get it up your ass."

I then went home, and instead of walking into on coming traffic like I had promised myself that I would. I sang myself a little ditty instead. You know there really is no mountain high enough. No river wide enough...

Too Much

I just got an email from some random spammer with the current tagline:

"It's okay, it is common to have problems with errections."


Okay, stop right there. Hold on buddy, don't you think this is too much too soon? I mean come on, we hardly know eachother! We've barely even met, and here you are talking specifics about your errection? Didn't your mother teach you any better?

Scheduling.

I just stepped outside a little past midnight to smoke a cigarette. As I inhaled, I noticed all the subtle beauty surrounding me. The gentle reds and tans of the hard brick wall I was leaning upon, the calm winds that tugged the ends of my unruly hair, the moon shining more brightly than I can remember in recent times. It's comforting to know that even if I'm on the outs with my best friend, and my love life is going less than spectacularly...or actually not going anywhere at all (Though, alas that is another post), that life still has simple ways of treating you to a moment that is purely, and simply just for you. And it's sad that we take so little time to appreciate it. All we have to do is show up, the world is already making the perfect moments and memories for us. And while we go about our busy lives , having arguments, and shedding tears, the world just keeps your reservation open for you for the moment you decide to take up it's offer. And I think that's a date we all need to schedule in our date books.

Short

Up date: I just dyed my hair black.

Pictures will be up soon.

That is all.

It's time for things to come full circle.

Happy Fucking Fourth.

Today I spent most of my time doing what all true Americans do on this great holiday we know as Independance Day; I sat on my ass and sold fireworks. This is fine. This is perfectly normal. What is not perfectly normal, however is the fact that this firework's stand is located in the great outdoors. If you know me at all you know that me and the outside world don't necessarily always get along. I mean sometimes we're civil to eachother, but sometimes we're downright rude bitches to one another. This is where the struggle begins me being rude to the mother earth, and the mother earth pissing all over me. Which is actually how the story begins in the first place, piss. As I stated earlier the fireworks stand is located in a giant tent in the middle of town surrounded by lots and lots of trees, but no public restroom. Whoever thought this was a bright idea, I would like to personally kill. It was eventually inevitable though I tried to hold it in for the last week that I have worked there, today on the busiest day of the year for an average fireworks stand, my bladder decided to shit out on me. So I leave the tent, and find a tree. This is not something I'm necessarily happy about. Peeing outside leaves a boy feeling very vunerable and slightly mortified. Although as I stated before this is truly where the conflict comes into play. Suddenly as I'm disposing of several liters of coca cola products I had consumed earlier in the day, my foot begins to burn with the intensity of a thousand midgets clawing their way out of a dumpster of ferrets. Or something equally as bad. At first, I freaked out because I thought I was peeing on my foot, and if that had happened I would have just had to cut it off. I can not walk around knowing that urine had ever been on my foot. But suddenly I realize that I am standing in a freaking ant pile. Gonads to the wind, and tiny insects scurrying up my leg biting the shit out of me. What excatly did I do to deserve this? I mean it's not like I'm dumping toxic waste here, I'm pretty sure urine is biodegradable right? To wrap things up, I finally zipped up my pants, and found another tree as I tried to rid my leg of said ants. All the time wondering if this is what started it all. Were our nations great forefathers peeing in the woods, and suddenly had a eureka that we should have own govermment? Or did they too get their limbs gnawed off by scurrying creatures? I guess we'll never know.

Oh My God

I never thought I would say this...but this is THE SONG OF THE SUMMER.

Jessica Simpson-A Public Affair

I didn't post that really, so I guess it's legal for y'all to download it. Whatever, trust me this is important.

If you know me at all, you know that I'm with someone pretty much twenty four hours a day. I hate spending time alone. I cannot stand to sit here by myself as I am right now. I need to be moving, and going, instead of sitting, and thinking, and falling. When I sit by myself and think old things, suppossed to be dead and buried things, come back from the afterlife to haunt me once again. Forgotten people start bubbling to the surface screaming my name, looking me in the eyes, holding out their hands. It's too much to take.

Back to basics

After being offline for a little over two months, I've come to realize that the interweb is not as important to me as it once was. And though I'm sorry that I haven't gotten a chance to up to date this as much as I would like to, I dont' really feel like sharing every little detail of my life as much as I used to. Maybe it's just me, but I guess I don't see the point of posting all of my secrets for a bunch of strangers to see, anymore. Don't get me wrong I'm not closing the site, just trying to see where all of this is going. All in all, I've missed everyone who does read. Thanks for sticking with me.

Sorry

It's been a while, I realize this. My internet has been down for an entire week. Sorry about lacdk of updates, I am. Will try to get back up soon.

Loved

I'd just like to take a moment to list a few things that I have much love for recently:

Shakira

Cigarettes, and lots of them

Pink Ruffles

That bitch at "Black Tie"

That other bitch on myspace who sent me a message saying that I look just like her first crush, and don't I want to "hook up"?

My stalker, have I told you the story about my stalker? No, I haven't? I totally should sometime.

Telling people that no in fact, my hips do not lie, and neither does my twat.

Public Urination.

I haven't written anything extensive in this for quite some time. I'm sorry if I just can't be bothered that often. I guess that when I'm not writing on this, I'm out there actually living my life. I have to have something to write about. And the only recurring theme I can find recently is friendship. That's all I have around me, I am completely surrounded by love. And that is good enough for me.

Et Tu

I should have posted this earlier, but all I have to say about today is:

Beware the ides of March. Seriously, that bitch is vicious.

Take it or leave it.

If it makes me a loser that sometimes I like sentimental "Oh, don't forget how wonderful we were together, and all the wild sex we accomplished" songs, then so be it.

What do you think about me?

My Pros
and Cons

Only to me

In case any of you were afraid that I had lost my touch to have stupid and odd things happen to me for seemingly no reason at all, well fear not. Yesterday while at the library with Son and Natalie, me and Natalie sat a small table while she did some homework, I believe Son was outside smoking. Anyways, as me and Natalie had a quiet conversation, I suddenly felt something bump my leg, of course thinking it was Natalie I began to proclaim that she had kicked me, and how dare she do such a thing, when I look at Natalie and notice that she isn't paying attention to me because she's looking at someone right on the side of me. I turn to look only to see a very large, very tall, very african male wearing a blue shirt. As I begin to look at him to see if maybe I know him, and he was just trying to get my attention, he walks away. I was the victim of a walk by kicking! I swear to God, this kind of thing only happens to me.

Heard and Said

Him: "Sometime this week, I swear I'm just going to shove something up his ass"
Me: "Why him? You should do it to ****** (Name ommitted to protect the Irish)
Her: "No, that would never work, she's already got something up there."

I'll be ready

I would love to write something witty, or inspirational, or maybe even grammatically correct. But, I can't do any of those things. I don't feel like being funny, or a good semeritan, or a good anything honestly. I just feel like lying down, and maybe never getting up again. Or alternatively taking off my shoes, and running around the world screaming until someone notices me, and when they do, I'll be ready for that.

Haunting

A few days ago I had a frightening thought as I made my way home in my sturdy Jeep. As I passed an old familliar road that my Godmother used to live on, and was also the settlement of an ex, I began to realize that I pass that same neighborhood every day. And when I pass it, do I think of the Godmother who I knew and loved for fifteen years of my life? Or do I remember the person who I dated for a year and half, and then spent an equal amount of time fearing and avoiding? Of course I remember the latter. Is it odd that our past loves haunt us more than people who are actually dead? And is a dead relationship anything like a dead person, or realative, or friend at all? Do we need mourning time? Should we wear all black for the next year? Am I expected to sit shiva? And if so, why is this? Why is it that we can know someone our entire lifes, have them die and still think of our stupid relationships over them? Are we really that selfish? Am I that selfish? Well, maybe I should just stop thinking, and keep driving.